


How the heart is wired

by fupette



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Comfort, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Nudity, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Stalking, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 21,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26720803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fupette/pseuds/fupette
Summary: NSA agent Ellie Bishops finds herself the unwitting object of desire for a dangerous terrorist . Stalking escalates to kidnapping. Kidnapping leads to dark, cruel and painful happenings.(Warning: Mature Themes & Very Bad things happen)
Relationships: Ellie Bishop/Jake Malloy, Ellie Bishop/Nick Torres
Comments: 17
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English is my first language, all spellings and grammar issues are my own fault. My Irish spellings might annoy readers, but that is how my brain is wired & my spell check is configured! 
> 
> I wish I had the gift of brevity (I don’t, so long tangent laden sentence abound), over generous use of punctuation (guilty as charged and badly deployed). 
> 
> This story is very dark and very upsetting themes are addressed, the tags are just the initial warnings, please err on the side of caution. My general warning from the start is very bad things happen in the story for no good reason. If you feel nervous about continuing to read, I would genuinely urge you not to, although this is a work of fiction violence and degrading behaviour will crop up throughout the story, this could be triggering so please please please avoid, if you have a sliver of doubt in reading the story.

Benham watches her, a dangerous mixture of desire and anger burns inside him. She dances around her kitchen grabbing delph from the cupboards, unaware that she has an audience. Unbidden she heaps food onto her waiting plates, smiling broadly as she sneaks a quick preview taste. He muses that while her husband is home, she is the dutiful wife, immaculately dressed and fussing over the shared dinner she would be invariably slaving over. 

He enjoys the intimacy of Ellie alone, her unwinding from a day’s work in the NSA consists mainly of a Chinese takeaway, which she proceeds to hastily devour after she observed the niceties of plating it up. He can imagine her humming with pleasure as she indulges in each steaming dish, her Riesling lies, as-yet, untouched in the wine glass, until she swabs the last of her prawn toast absorbing the remaining vestiges of sauce from the now empty plate. 

Benham has noticed the subtler changes in her behaviour while her husband is gone, her favourite white wine is now served in a generously proportioned red wine glass, there are no longer any left overs from earlier meals deposited in the fridge. The dirty dishes from the past two night are staked expectantly by the kitchen sink. He notices the obvious changes too, she dresses casually around the apartment now, a tatty sweatpants and a loose t-shirt have become her de facto uniform; her phone conversations are more frequent; inherently longer and chattier. Benham studies all the details big and small.

Tonight she tackles her washing up, gliding around the kitchen in time to whatever insipid pop song is on the radio, stopping only to do a cheesy guitar solo on the brush. She wipes down the kitchen surfaces and gathers the assortment of mail and flyers that have accumulated during the week, binning most of them before she returned gratefully to her wine glass. He hates how happy and self-content she is, how can she dare to be happy without him? 

She languorously lounges on the couch, the absence of her husband means she is curled up reading a book, eschewing the old routine where husband and wife would be the picture of idle domesticity discussing the office gossip while watching mindless tv. Jake’s absence mollified some of Benham’s anger, he hated having to witness the warmth and companionship between the couple, the mere thought that his Ellie would be around any man, especially an infidel from the hated NSA, was an assault on his manhood. His anger was indefinable, he’d need to teach her the error of her ways, she was his, whether she liked it or not.


	2. Chapter 2

The lateness of the hour, had left Ellie dozing in her front room, her book forgotten on the floor and her body obscured under her afghan, using it as a makeshift blanket. She was totally oblivious to the hidden onlooker outside her home. He watched as she woke abruptly, reaching automatically for the nearby phone. He watches her idly chat as she plays with the loose tresses of her hair absentmindedly. He assumes that Jake was ringing her, untroubled with the time difference between their respective timezones. He fiddled with his parabolic mic hoping to catch the gist of the conversation, hoping he wouldn’t have to move his plans forward, with the help of his brothers he would have his heart’s desire soon, he did not want any new obstacles placed in his way.

He savoured hearing Ellie’s tired voice, after weeks of mute surveillance, he enjoyed hearing her smalltalk. He rarely used the mic due to its cumbersome attention-seeking appearance but under the cover of total darkness he was confident that it was not visible to anyone in the sleepy suburb. He was pleased when Jake broke the news that his secondment to the Asian office had been extended to an additional week to facilitate the ongoing audit. Benham watched Ellie dejectedly slump back into the couch, while tactfully moderating her disappointment on the phone-call knowing that Jake’s plan was already set. Benham was less interested in the minutia of Ellie and Jake’s upcoming plans, as they teased out the various adjustments needed to their shared schedule to accommodate Jake’s continuing absence. He smiled cruelly, knowing these plans would be rendered inconsequential with the success of his own machinations. He started packing away his listening equipment, in a buoyant mood, Jake had gifted him additional days for his plan, Benham’s ears only pricking up again when Ellie and her husband exchanged their lovey-dovey goodbyes as the black-clad terrorist packed away his surveillance gear in perfect synchrony to the call’s completion.

Now with the absence of sound, Benham watches the unfolding scene more intently, enjoying the unselfconscious semi-yawn/semi-stretch as Ellie extricates herself from the comfort of the couch. He watches her sleepy motion as she fixes the afghan and tidies away the wine glass, then finally turning out the lights in her living room. He changes his own vantage point now, excitement blooming inside of him, as he can see she has turned on the lights in her bedroom and ensuite. His stealthy actions indicate his familiarity with this set up, finding his way through the bushes until he has sight of his prey again. He smiles hungrily, she is naked now, readying herself for a shower, her movements uninhibited as she innocently doesn’t realise that someone is watching her. In complete contrast her stalker watches her angry at his own arousal; drinking in her beauty, a twisted desire to make her his own, the fact that she was the NSA’s foremost expert on him was an ironic side benefit, pleasure for him and pain for the institutions of the United States Government was a heady and desirable combination.


	3. Chapter 3

Ellie lets the hot water wash away the stress and frustrations of her day. She was miffed by Jake’s unilateral decision to stay abroad to complete the audit, she’d have appreciated if he would have least have pretended the final decision would have been taken jointly. She chided herself for the petty jealousy, but she often felt that in their marriage she was always the person ceding ground. She neatly compartmentalised her annoyance, allowing herself to luxuriate in the shower, she might as well enjoy her alone time, tomorrow would be dessert for dinner day, she might get a massage, as she shut off the tap and stepped into her fluffy dressing gown her plan was already crystallising in her mind she’d have a spa day. After towelling her hair dry she climbed into bed, disappointed momentarily as slipped under the cool sheets missing Jake’s warming presence, as soon as her head touched the pillow she was fast sleep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ellie’s day was blissfully uneventful, she woke extra early to ring her mother, glad for the extended opportunity for inane chit-chat. She skipped her morning jog, electing to stay in her PJs and finish her book. She was in truth killing time before heading to a local spa, incredulous at the great deal offered by a flyer in her junk mail, the small inconvenience of an early morning appointment not troubling her in the least. 

When she pulled up to the parking lot, she was struck by the plush surroundings, she smiled at her good fortune, expecting some kind of small boutique but this place was positively palatial. She checked in at the front desk, finding the receptionist as accommodating in real-life, as she had on the phone. She waited for her masseuse, enjoying her freshly brewed chai, nibbling on the accompanying pastry, while she couldn’t help but overhear the apologetic receptionist cancel some later appointments due to a staff member calling in sick. Ellie mused how lucky she was to have nabbed the first slot of the day, she might end up having the facilities of the spa all to herself. Ellie felt like she was on a streak of good fortune.

Her masseuse, Hayat, lead the way into the changing room, allowing Ellie to take in the salubrious surroundings, the cavernous changing rooms an oasis of calm, with only two occupants. The employee smiled tightly when Ellie caught her appraising look. “You look to be my size, a small?” Hayat enquired waiting for confirmation from the petit blonde, before passing her a fluffy robe and pair of sandals. “Please put your belongings in the lockers provided, you can change the passcode on the keypad provided, I’ll take you to the massage suite when you are ready, just press the call button by the door if you need or want anything.” Ellie changed in immodest haste, eager to maximise her pampering time, bundling her clothes and handbag into a haphazard pile in the waiting locker.

Ellie chatted with Hayat about a couple’s package, deciding that it would be a nice joint activity for herself and Jake to indulge in once he was home. She relaxed into the provided chair, while Hayat did her paperwork. The insurance and customer questionnaire was proving exceedingly thorough, allowing Ellie to savour another steaming cup of chai, confirming she had no allergies or injuries that might impede the efficacy of the massage. 

Ellie could feel the tension already melt away as she mounted the massage table, her mind not fully processing her own uncoordinated movements. In fact thinking was becoming an unnecessary burden, she didn’t recognise the creeping oblivion of sleep, it was easier just to enjoy the calm sensations around her. The low candlelight and gentle tinkling music were so relaxing. She was feeling inexplicably drowsy, the crisp heat of the room had a furthering soporific effect as the gentle kneading motion on her back allowed the lulling siren song of sleep overtake her.

Hayat stoped her massage noting that the sedatives in the chai had finally worked their insidious magic, the NSA agent was knocked out cold. She carefully rolled Ellie onto her side, the massage bed giving her little room to accomplish the manoeuvre. She checked her victim’s pulse satisfied that it was slow but steady, the drugs holding the sleeping blonde in its thrall. The sharp pinch of a hypodermic needle was unfelt as it pumped a further sedative into Ellie’s system. Benham had a list of shots he wanted the sleeping agent to receive and a battery of tests that he needed performed. Hayat divested her unconscious charge of the modesty blanket, allowing her to admire the sleeping agent more fully while she waited for the hospital gurney to arrive. 

In the recesses of the neighbouring medical facility, a succession of masked professional’s poked and prodded the sleeping agent. Unbeknownst to the prone captive, nameless functionaries photographed every dimple and freckle on her unresponsive form. She had a full medical workup including a blood test, followed by a cavalcade of injections from a doctor. An x-ray was given, followed by the taking of fingerprints and hair and swab samples. Cold clinical hands measured every inch of her body while a dentist measured her mouth taking impressions of her teeth. The medical orderly, flipped the defenceless victim onto her back, to continue the photographic chronicle ensuring no area was left undocumented. On the less invasive spectrum, back in the spa's changing room, technicians rifled through her bags and belongings, carefully making copies of the resting agent’s keys, IDs and credit card, installing tracking software on her phone. They were comfortable in the knowledge they would have more time later to clinically ransack the unconscious agent’s car. Firstly they'd need to send a progress update to their boss.


	4. Chapter 4

In a nondescript office across town Benham Parsa waited for an update from his minions, gratified that so far his plan had worked perfectly. He would have liked to have been present for Ellie’s medical, but his plan had further crucial components that needed sorting. Crime had always been lucrative for the Parsas, once the descriptor of terror had been appended on to his activities, he suddenly found himself in a whole other league for higher paydays and access to devoted fanatical foot-soldiers, once he brandished his own terrorist moniker. The Brotherhood of Doubt was a convenient means to an end, it allowed him to direct willing pawns to do his handiwork. The pleasure of being management is that he didn’t have to bother with the grunt-work. He wait and settle for photos, knowing he’d get everything very soon. It was only a matter of time before he had his twisted heart's desire. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Ellie’s eyelids felt unnaturally heavy, she struggled with her tiredness trying to make sense of her surroundings. She could see Hayat’s worried face swimming into her vision. Ellie groaned as she fought to sit upright on the massage table, confused that her last conscious memory was the reverse mounting action. Now instead of feeling recharged she felt weak and woozy. Before she could voice her myriad questions, Hayat was in her personal spaces, fawning in her display of concern, “Oh Miss Ellie, I think you fainted. I called the doctor from the surgery next door. I am sooo sorry I could not contact your next of kin, the phone number you provided rang out”. Ellie slowly parsed each tidbit of information, understanding that Jake wouldn’t have picked up an unknown number, she tried to compute the Asian time difference, but her normally snappy ability to think on her feet was sorely lacking. It made sense that she’d need to see a physician, although she thought it was odd that they had one so willing and so close to hand. “Miss Ellie, we get the doctor, yes?”, this time Hayat’s question felt more of a statement as she chivvied the ill agent through a side door. Lethargically Ellie followed the masseuse, her brain was stuck in first gear wondering how and why such a state of the art medical facility seemed to be attached a high-end spa. 

After they finally arrived at the examination room, Ellie listened morosely as Hayat conversed with the harried looking doctor. Ellie felt foolish and weak slumped in her chair like a naughty child ignored by her two companions already deep in conversation. The only modicum of solace she took was that she could perfectly understand the ensuing discussion, she followed Hayat’s rather dramatic tale in Urdu of her collapse, her razor-sharp mind felt slow and dull as she couldn’t bring herself to fully agree with the masseuse’s recounted story. Hayat’s idle diagnosing of epilepsy or some contagious disease jolted Ellie from her reverie. What the hell was going on?

It took several slow moments for Ellie to realise the conversation had reverted back to english and that the doctor was directly addressing her. She felt relieved when he told her that he just wanted to run some quick tests, worried that she had a fainting fit, but wanting to rule out a bug that had laid some of the spa employees low. Dimly Ellie remembered the receptionist talking about her colleague calling in sick, she figured it was just her luck to have inadvertently caught something. The doctor was quick to offer the services of his nurse to get her a hospital gown. If Ellie couldn’t see her own pallor reflected in the doctor’s shiny stethoscope she’d have bet her life that she had turned momentarily beetroot red in embarrassment at her state of undress. 

Hayat was soon replaced by the aforementioned nurse, it was a testament to Ellie’s addled mind that she never thought to question how the nurse was waiting so readily with a hospital gown in exactly the right size and fit for her small frame. Ellie instead focused on the departing Hayat’s message as she kindly informed Ellie that she would be back to collect her after the doctor’s check-up once she had been given the all-clear. 

The doctor’s tests were not onerous, Ellie was glad to have the distraction of following the doctor’s simple orders, as he tested each of her vital signs in turn. She couldn’t understand why she felt so tired. After the active part of the physical, the doctor made some notes before peppering his patient with some further questions, waiting for confirmation that she didn’t have any allergies; yes she was on the Pill; no she hadn’t recently visited any tropical or malarial climates; no she wasn’t stressed from her job, she confirmed that she had a full breakfast this morning, cringing as her demanding stomach rumbled as if it had a mind of its own. Her worry refocused from her general tiredness to the amount of time she might have been out cold.

Ellie inwardly cursed Jake’s absence, if only he was State-side he could have rescued her from this embarrassing predicament. She listened impassively as the doctor chided her for being underweight and having low iron-levels, explaining this could lead to blackouts. She found it difficult to concentrate on the doctor’s words, for the first time feeling worried that she was genuinely sick rather than overtired. She wished the doctor would just put her out of her misery, she wanted to go home and curl up in bed.

A soft rapping on the door, announced Hayat’s return. Listlessly Ellie listens to the doctor’s advice again as Hayat enquired about her health, the announcement that she shouldn’t drive hits her like a hammer blow, if she was home in Oklahoma she’d have her choice of sibling to collect her, here in lonely DC her options are limited. She follows Hayat mindlessly, the nurse wheeling her through the building, Ellie felt so weak in the wheelchair, her smile forced and watery as she thanked the nurse for remembering the doctor’s prescription and sick cert. Hayat escorted the suffering blonde back to the changing room, leaving the nurse and the wheelchair behind at the partition between surgery and spa, she couldn’t help but note that her charge still looked sick from the earlier drugs and a little uncoordinated on her feet. She helped Ellie empty her locker, taking the opportunity to twisted the philosophical knife, offering to ring Ellie’s husband again, feigning interest while her dejected captive informed her he was abroad with work. 

Despite the ceaseless chitchat, Ellie was glad for the additional help as she changed back into her civvies, inexplicably these small actions like walking through the changing room were suddenly energy sapping. She waited as Hayat got the receptionist to organise the filling of her prescription, her gratitude growing further at the relief that the receptionist was organising a car to take her home too. She didn’t have the mental bandwidth to the question the speed with which the little bottle of pills appeared, as Hayat secreted them into her empty hand. She couldn’t bring herself to worry about her abandoned truck, her hindbrain was screaming to get to the safety of home, accepting the plush chauffeur drive home as a necessary evil.


	5. Chapter 5

Benham watched Ellie trip through her front door, smiling in self-satisfaction at his idea to wire the apartment for video and sound while the young agent was incapacitated, grateful that he didn’t need to creep around the bushes at night to target his prey. He watched her check her phone, the visible soft-furrow of her brow was a testament to the video resolution and Ellie’s thought process as she continued to type, Benham loved the software his technicians had installed on her phone while she was unconscious, giving him further insight into Ellie’s most personal realm. He read her soppy message: 

‘Hey Babe, had a shitty day, not feeling 100%,   
nothing serious, I’ve been prescribed a course of antibiotics.   
I’ll try to sleep it off first :) Rain check on the call later.   
Hugs,  
E xoxoxo’

With a few keystrokes, he let the text message go to its intended recipient, then he blocked Ellie’s phones from dialling out to any family members. He didn’t need the hassle of a higher than necessary bodycount. Once he saw that his target had drifted of to sleep, he decided to speak to his sister and the doctor to get their insights from today’s work.

Benham was thoroughly satisfied, Ellie had been fully vaccinated and received a birth control shot (this would save time and hassle in the future). He reconfirmed she had no identifying tattoos or marks, this pleased him greatly perusing each photo eagerly as if he was a connoisseur of female flesh. The x-ray showed a childhood break in her left arm, something that wasn’t evident from her NSA physical, but would conceivably be noted in an autopsy. He believed in leaving nothing to chance and he was increasingly confident in his perfect plan. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ellie lay exhausted on her couch, her energy and happiness from the morning all but forgotten. Looking out her window she could see only dusky darkness outside, with a forlorn groan she leveraged herself into a seated position, her tired eyes searching for her laptop.

Benham smiled at Ellie’s google search, happy that his target wasn’t completely credulous. The software surreptitiously installed on her laptop registered each keystrokes and mirrored her computer screen, he could see she was suspicious about the salon and the medical facility. She meticulously scrolled through copious amounts of information, rubbing the sleep from her eyes in mute frustration. This business was one of many legitimate enterprises under Parsa control, a professional requirement for any large-scale money laundering operation, he watched with keen interest to see if a much-vaunted NSA analyst would spot anything untoward. He could see Ellie’s curiosity was temporarily sated, her search history straying into internet diagnosis as she looked up her current symptoms and informed herself on the potential side-effects of the antibiotics she was prescribed. 

In short-order, Ellie gave up on her internet sleuthing, she couldn’t rid herself of the nagging tiredness that weighed heavy on her bones, she longed for a bath but the imperative of rest overrode everything else at the moment. She fiddled tiredly with the pill bottle, dry swallowing a small pill, she then let herself collapse onto her bed in exhaustion.

Benham observed the sleeping Ellie, disappointed that he hadn’t been treated to a shower, but he consoled himself that soon he’d have his favourite agent in his own possession. He focused his attention on the remainder of his plan for liberating Ellie, only stopping when he was alerted to an incoming call on her landline, he toyed with letting Jake’s call through but decided that he would be munificent and allow Ellie the comfort of uninterrupted sleep. The next call to Ellie’s cellphone was predictably from her husband, Benham’s patience was starting to run thin, forcing the incoming call to voicemail, a feeling of jealous simmering beneath the surface as he listened to Jake’s bleating concerns. Once his emotions had calmed he coolly calibrated a text to get Jake off Ellie’s back temporarily.

‘Hey Babe, Sorry I missed your call, my throat is still pretty sore.   
I’m trying to rest it up. I’m working on something big,   
can’t wait to share it with you and make you proud.

Missing you so much,  
E xoxoxo’


	6. Chapter 6

Ellie tossed and turned in her bed, the sunlight shining through the window stinging her eyes. She reached for her pillow burrowing her head into the fluffy darkness, she was still so inexplicably tired. She groaned when she realised she had slept in yesterday’s clothes, she could almost imagine the cartoon smell-lines emanating from her body. With a supreme effort Ellie managed to shower and change. She eschewed the comfort of the couch, to sit at her kitchen table, composing and recomposing an email to her manager asking for a couple of days off. She toyed with mentioning sick-leave but didn’t want to appear weak in front of her boss, she’d ask Jake’s advise when she would ring him later, she left the unsent email sit in her drafts folder. 

Next Ellie searched for a tow truck company, perplexed that every company seemed to be closed on Sundays, in pure frustration she dialled the first number in the search results, becoming increasingly despondent with each unanswered ring. She was surprised when eventually a male voice spoke at the other end of the line, with a rush of gratitude Ellie readily accepted the proposal that the tow-truck would collect her car and drop it round this evening. She reasoned if she felt better tomorrow she would at least have a means of getting to work. 

Benham Parsa smiled as the phone conversation ended. His henchmen had already fully stocked Ellie’s truck, the flatbed making it gratifyingly easy to tow all the equipment he’d need for this delicate stage of the operation. He enjoyed a last look at Ellie on his monitor, before he turned his attention to rallying the troops and making sure all the final details were in place.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ellie spent the rest of her day in a miserable stupor, she wondered if she should get stronger medication but worried that either her illness or drugs was wreaking havoc on her appetite and her strength, was the cure worse than the disease? She managed to eat some dry toast before having her morning antibiotic, neither item seemed to improve her energy levels. As the day passed into mid-afternoon in a fog, she decided she’d reserve her energy for the tow-truck operator, if she managed a few hours rest she’d give Jake a ring, it seemed like an extravagance ringing him abroad, but she longed for the comfort of his voice. She remained cocooned on the couch until her doorbell rang later that night.

It took a second impatient ring to wake Ellie more fully from her torpor, dimly she recognised the late hour by the inky black sky outside, running on autopilot she made her way to the door, eager to complete this transaction, she could go back to bed once this chore is over. The burly tow-truck operator stood expectantly clipboard in hand. “Mrs Molloy?” he enquired politely, moving his considerable bulk sideways to show her truck parked in it’s rightful place. Ellie fumbled absentmindedly with her credit-card, it’s “Bishop, actually”, the correction was a reflexive habit, the words spilling from her mouth before her mind caught the obvious pitfall and the extra work she had just caused herself. She rattled her brain trying to remember if she paid by her joint credit card over the phone, her normally incisive mind drawing a blank. She turned her attention fully to her purse hunting for that seldom used card, oblivious to the weapon in her visitor’s hand.

The jolting pain knocked her backwards into her hallway, her body incapable of following her simple commands as she flailed fish-like on the floor, the shocks fizzling energy through every nerve ending in her sore body. It felt like a nightmare as the large man closed the open door and swiftly incapacitated her further, gagging her and trussing her hands and feet, before the electricity in her body had dissipated. She could hear the intruder rustling around in her front room, she tried to squash the ominous feeling that her attacker felt she was a beaten afterthought. She struggled to regain her feet, her bindings making this an impossible challenge, her interrupted efforts were short-lived as a pleased looking Benham Parsa appeared through the door a key in his hand, followed incongruously by Hayat from the spa.


	7. Chapter 7

Benham made easy work carrying the battling blonde into her front room, depositing her unceremoniously onto the couch. “For fuck sake Michael, yes retrieve the bugs but first you have to fully secure the target. She might only be a desk-jockey but this little one has had special training from the US Government” Benham’s words were tense. He stroked a tear from Ellie’s face, his strong hands allowing her no room to flinch back, he continued his monologuing undaunted in her inability to respond, “Well little one, we have to wait some time for the doctor to come, I could not let any of your nosey neighbours be suspicious of a houseparty, Hayat will give you a little fashion show while we wait for the food.” He moved next to her; seamlessly scooching closer while resting her protesting head on the pillow of his knees, Ellie’s protests efficiently muted by the gag in her mouth. He stroked his plaything’s hair, feeling her soft sobs telegraphed through her staccato breaths as Hayat proceed to violate the privacy of her bedroom and the sanctity of her closet, parading around in a succession of Ellie’s favourite outfits.

It felt particularly egregious to Ellie, that after wearing her finest and seldom worn party dresses, her female captor choose her favourite loungewear. It chilled her utterly that with the added baseball cap, at a distance Hayat seemed a dead ringer, the tresses of a blonde wig sealing the deal. When she heard the doorbell ring, her momentary hope was dashed by Benham’s confident direction to Hayat to answer it. Ellie watched in mute horror as Hayat produced a doppelgänger bag and purse, completing the transaction with alacrity, she warned Tom the pizza guy that she had a bit of a cough, flirting in a low gravely tone warning him to stay back from her germs. She could hear the pair exchange laughter as presumably her twin gave the customary tip. Hayat returned smugly presenting the pizza on the table in front of her brother, the receipt on the box perfectly aligned for reading in Ellie’s supine position. It confirmed her suspicions they’d ordered her usual meal deal and paid for it with her credit card. Ellie could only feel utter helplessness.

Benham and Hayat tucked into the pizza, allowing Michael to grab a slice before heading into the master bedroom. Ellie felt doubly violated, how long had Benham had her under such close surveillance after Michael continued retrieving various gizmos hidden around her home. The sick surreal feeling in the pit of Ellie’s stomach multiplied when she felt Benham’s hot breath close to her ear, allowing his whispered words to seep into her consciousness. “You have a choice little one, either take your medicine like a good girl and you can have a delicious slice of pizza, or go hungry and I’ll force you to snort these bad boys anyway”, he rattled the pill bottle menacingly in her eye-line before finishing with his final sentiment, “the choice is yours, but I will punish you if you are bad”.

Ellie hated her traitorous stomach, heralding to the room how starved she felt. She weighed the decision ominously knowing that either way she was going to end up drugged. Despite the adverse consequences she knew she had to at least attempt escape. She nodded demurely, allowing herself to be placed upright, with Parsa fiddling with the ball-gag straps, a thick ribbon of drool accompanying its removal. As he reached over for the promised pizza-slice. Ellie saw her opportunity, swinging her tied arms full force at her captor’s prone head, Ellie was satisfied she got the decent connection, as she felt the reciprocal pain ricochet up her own arms. She made a lunge in the direction of the doorway, forgetting momentarily that her feet were bound until the full force of hitting the floor knocked the air and scream from her lungs.

Working as a tag-team the Parsa’s easily subdued their captive, their job made infinitely easier as their target was already trussed up. With Benhan’s meaty hand on her jaw, the ball-gag was reinserted by Hayat, who somehow managed to stuff the gag deeper and buckle it tighter than before. Benham’s chastised Ellie for her bad behaviour, holding her chin in his free hand, forcing her to watch Hayat crush some ‘antibiotics’ into a small white powder mound, ready to make good on his earlier promise. Ellie felt his grip change to cover her mouth obstructing that already meagre airflow, when she felt the pinch on her nose closing her remaining airway, she struggled as much as her bound hyperventilating body will allow. Ellie’s vision dwindled to pinpicks with the oxygen deprivation, barely able to distinguish the approaching Hayat with her with evil intent. Ellie’s autonomic reaction took over as Benham released his fingers from her nose, she hoovered up the waiting white powder as her lungs sucked down much needed air. The sedatives masquerading as antibiotics flooded Ellie’s system rendering her almost instantaneously unconscious as the drugs hit her bloodstream, slowing her heart rate and knocking her out.


	8. Chapter 8

Benham tasked Michael to do the last of the necessary grunt work, directing him to gather a large heavy-duty bag from Ellie’s flat bad truck, before he dismissed him with clear instructions to put the collected surveillance devices beyond use. Ellie’s limp form was once again cradled in his lap, a possessive hand playing with blonde hair. He felt confident in removing the bonds on her wrists and feet, she would not get a further whiff of an opportunity to escape. Now that they were alone, Benham allowed Hayat to pour him a drink, the lack of an audience meant he didn’t need to play the pious holy man. “Hmmm I like her feistiness, brother. But has she made you weak?” Hayat enquired thoughtfully, shifting Ellie’s crumpled form aside to give herself a more comfortable position on the couch noting the lack of bindings on the captive’s hands. 

“Now sister, don’t you worry, once I get my little pet back to friendlier territory, I will be able to teach her more fully the my exacting requirements for total compliance”, as he knocked back the remaining liquid in his glass a smile broke out fully on his face, “she might need to unlearn some bad habits, but I’ll have all the time I need and a free hand to do whatever I please”.

Hayat was not in the habit of fighting with her brother and saw little reason to argue with him over his newest plaything. As a peace offering she collected both their glasses and rinsing them in a parody of politeness. Next, she returned to the large black bag that Michael had deposited, rustling through its contents before announcing, “I’ll get ready in the kitchen, give me 5 minutes then bring in the little bitch”. 

Benham was deceptively strong, dealt with Ellie’s dead-weight without a problem. He steadied her insensate form on the kitchen chair, balancing his captive’s slumping form against the wooden-backed seat. He allowed Hayat to paste a gloopy black substance on summer-blonde hair, scrunching his nose at the acrid chemical smell. He ignored Hayat’s unfunny blonde jokes as they waited for the hair colourant to set. He marvelled at how useful the doctor’s drugs had proved, their captive barely moving a muscle, unaware of the terrible and devious plans the Parsa’s where formulating. As the hair dying was a temporary measure Hayat consulted her watch impatiently before brother and sister worked in unison to wash off the noxious chemicals, Benham couldn’t help but admire their handiwork, the dark hair contrasted the beautiful pale skin of an untroubled sleeping face. He left Hayat to the woman’s work of drying the hair, he could feel his impatience as he waited for the doctor, now that Ellie was in his clutches he was eager to finish his plan. As a distraction he proceeded to empty the contents of the black bag assembling each prop carefully. He only stopped to move the sleeping Ellie back to her couch one last time at his sister’s behest, allowing her to check her ringing phone. 

“Brother, the doctor is outside, he confirmed the crime scene has been staged” her tone was deadpan despite speaking of life and death matters, “He’s worked around the cadaver’s lack of a left arm break, I’ll go lay the trail for CCTV, will you handle the digital trail?”. Benham scoffed at the inference that he might not be already prepared, pointing to a stack of surveillance photos and financial documents arrayed messily on the table. “I’ve the text message waiting in draft and I have had the computer techs do a bit of revisionist history on our little agent’s search history. Be a dear, get the gloves on I want my pet’s finger prints all over this stuff before your little joy ride”. Hayat helped her brother stage Ellie’s home, clearing out any evidence of their presence, they discussed the best route for maximising her CCTV coverage before they both had good laugh at the sappy message Benham would send to Jake on Ellie’s behalf.

‘Hey Babe,  
I’ve got an exciting lead,  
if this doesn’t get me bumped up to SCS nothing will.  
I’ll be careful, will need to maintain radio silence,  
can’t wait to fill you in later

Love you,  
E xoxoxo’

Hayat left the apartment in full Ellie regalia including her modest wedding band, feeling frumpy in her current get-up, she hoped her brother would let her play dress-up with his captive, once they were home. She carefully eschewed acknowledging the doctor who was approaching in the opposite direction bag-in-hand. She savoured the frisson of excitement, eager to play her role in the larger plan, she just had one more task to complete.


	9. Chapter 9

Benham exchanged a hearty handshake with the doctor, despite Hayat’s update, Benham had an appreciation for details and was happy to hear the doctor recount his side of the story. They undressed their captive in unison and then covered her immodestly in an ill fitting hospital gown, the doctor carefully attached an admission bracelet to Ellie’s limp left arm. The doctor looked to Benham for instructions about what additional paraphernalia to add. Disliking the thought of the doctor exploring Ellie’s nether regions, Benham dismissed the offer of catheterisation out of hand, feeling that an adult diaper would be sufficiently humiliating for his captive. He agreed that the insertion of an IV cannula seemed prudent, it would allow him to keep Ellie doped up and pliable on their travels. The prick of the needle seemed to rouse the patient. He watched her struggle valiantly against drugs in her system, he was thrumming in anticipation her terror would be deeply satisfying for him, he very much wanted her to be awake so he could gloat.

Ellie felt so tired, dimly she could sense male voices, she could feel the ghost of her earlier terror haunt her psyche. Her mind fragmented in fear and drugged confusion. Oh God!, this can’t be happening, no, no, no, this is a nightmare. I'll wake up soon... Her thoughts were interrupted by Benham’s chilling voice, “Hmmm, Little one I can see you are awake, are you ready to behave now?”

Before Ellie can formulate a response, the accursed doctor approached with a formless mass of cloth, she tried fruitlessly to escape the unwanted hands, the lethargy in her limb giving her a rag-doll quality as she was folded into the abaya by her two captors. Her eyes dart between the twin threats in front of her, Benham fiddling with the straps on a foldable gurney and the doctor fiddling with an IV stand. 

Ellie was swiftly placed on the stretcher, Benham narrating his dark threats of violence at the mere hint of misbehaviour as he ensures broad straps pin the gagged captive to the gurney, he placed a brace around her neck to further limit his prisoner’s movements, forcing her to stare morosely at the ceiling. Benham appears once again in the periphery of her limited vision, she seethes at his self-satisfaction. He benignly taps the ball-gag, casing a ripple of drool to cascade from her pried-open mouth. He tells her it is “a small punishment” for her earlier misbehaviour. She watches helplessly as he places an oxygen mask over her mouth, obscuring her face and hiding the cruel muzzle robbing her of her voice. Next the doctor comes into view, attaching something to her wheeled prison, the clanking of metal on metal ringing clearly beside her ear. “I am not heartless, the doctor will give you something to help with your compliance. We are going for a little trip. Be good little one. I’d hate to hurt you more than I have to”. The words were reinforced with a territorial pat of her strapped thighs, but her immediate attention was drawn to the plastic rustling noise behind her head, Ellie felt the sharp burn of drugs being pumped into her system, she fights groggily against the soporific thrall of the drugs but it was a losing battle, her extremities now numbed to Benham’s gropping.

The ceiling changed to the morning sky, as Ellie is stretchered from her house, the half-light of early morning threatening to shine through the overcast sky. The men worked seamlessly at their task loading the patient into the idling ambulance. Despite the stupor of drugs, Ellie was left to stew in her thoughts, overwhelmed by the meticulous planning and clinical logistics involved in her kidnapping. She thinks about her family and Jake, worried about how they’ll feel now that she is about to drop off the face of the earth. She closed her eyes trying to rid herself of these dark notions, she feels like a failure, wearily testing the bindings trapping her to no avail, her heart felt heavy with her abject hopelessness.

The ambulance journey was uneventful, no conversation passes between the occupants of the vehicle to relieve Ellie’s torpid inertia, to give her the slightest hint at their final destination, it was as if not knowing was part of the punishment. She could sense that it is Benham Parsa next to her, his attention absorbed mostly in his phone, the periodic tapping noises are the tell-tale giveaway. The doctor is out of sight but she can feel a pair of hands stroking her feet, it is a ghostly creepy feeling, as she recognises the waning effects the drugs have on her limbs.   
She imagines that it is Michael or Hayat who are ferrying them around in the vehicle but in truth Ellie’s whole world has collapsed to the size of the bed she now occupied, the particulars now make little difference it is her destination that fills her with dread. She aimlessly wishes that she could overcome the drug and slay the two monsters she is trapped with.


	10. Chapter 10

Ellie waits in trepidation feeling the car engine slow to a stop. She observes two sets of eyes appraising her dispassionately. Benham Parsa places a restraining hand on the doctor, Ellie wouldn’t call it a chastising movement, but it certainly conveyed the younger man’s seniority. He passed his phone to the doctor with a wide smile, “We have been successful, please doctor, contact my sister and let her know my gratitude”. Ellie knew nothing that could make these men happy could be good news for her. Her fretful eyes observes the scene, her heart hammering in her chest, as Benham manoeuvred the gurney to seat her upright. Divesting her of the phoney oxygen mask and neck brace, he gives her a piercing look as if daring her to challenge him. Wordlessly, he opens each restraining strap carefully, the ripping velcro noise grating against the stillness of the confined space. He places Ellie carefully on the wheelchair he had been using as a seat. She is aware for the first time the crinkly indignity of the plastic and cotton beneath her buttox. Benham advises her coldly that he he will not tolerate any disobedience, as he wraps her head in a hijab, admiring the simplicity of the disguise. Ellie recognises the anonymity her new garb foists upon her, knowing the point is the casual cruelty, a further way for her kidnapper to exercise his complete control. She notices the tendrils of unfamiliar dark hair that have been captured beneath the cloth folds of her headscarf, she worries what other indignities were visited on her body while she was unconscious, but she is finding even in her darkest imagination she could never contend with the bleak manifestation of her new reality.

After careful assessment of the outfit, Benham inquires if he can trust Ellie to be silent. Ellie nods slowly, the movement making her feel dizzy, yet another side-effect of the drugs still keeping her weak and confused. It feels like only a small concession, her traitorous jaw had been frozen into a rictus of pain. She is sure she’d have agreed to anything to relieve this pain; however temporary the relief may prove to be. Benham worked the ball-gag slowly out of his captive’s mouth, enjoying Ellie’s discomfort, as a shiny strand of saliva soils the otherwise pristine abaya. “Hmmmm, good girl remember I need your absolute silence, ok”, unsurprisingly he did not wait for a response, “the doctor will get you shoes and fix your IV to the ‘chair, while I bind those beautiful eyes”. Ellie barely choked back the surprised squeak as she was blinded by layers of gauze, Benham explaining that her non-Arab eyes would give the game away, before he carefully settled the rest of the headgear back to its rightful place.

Ellie tried to regulate her breathing, not wanting to give her tormenter the satisfaction of her hyperventilation, the dark world she now inhabits was the fuel of nightmares. She could feel Benham’s steady possessive hand on her shoulder as she was pushed through the front door of an unknown building, the whoosh of the automatic door was followed by the clanking of her wheelchair. She can sense they are out in public, it was a testament to Benham’s brazen confidence and trust in Ellie’s sick disguise. Ellie’s emotions were in turmoil, she knew she was in an airport, a fancy private jet airport by the sounds of it, the hustle, bustle and generally chaos of Dulles Airport was sorely lacking. Yet she could sense the presence of other people, surely they all couldn’t be in the pockets of the Brotherhood of Doubt. A small ray of hope blossomed within Ellie, she knew she was tantalisingly close to help, maybe even escape, she just needed to pick the most opportune time, she just needed Benham to be distracted for a few seconds, she needed to fight the dull control of the drugs but for the first time all day she had hope in her heart.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Ah Mr Farood, how good to see you”. Ellie could hear the owner of the obsequious voice, match her captor’s brisk pace. “I do hope your sister’s surgery was successful”. Ellie could feel the grip on her shoulder tightened. “Yes, yes the doctors are most happy, dear Hayat is just a little weak…. she was just so shocked by that terrorist attack today she insisted she travel with me on business” Ellie’s mind reeled trying to make sense of the latest bombshell, worried about what chaos the Brotherhood of Doubt had wrought. Still in her reverie, she ony belatedly caught the rustle of an envelope from Benham’s direction, “I must once again thank you for facilitating my family on such short notice”, Benham’s voice was a chilling facsimile of sincerity. Ellie knew escape was now even more urgent especially as the airport functionary offered to expedite their journey through security. She steeled herself to make her move soon.

As their pace slowed, Ellie could hear the beeps of the various screening machines. She launched herself from the wheelchair hoping to create a scene, alas her uncooperative feet wouldn’t take her weight causing her to flail to the floor, tripping over her heavy booted feet. Her planned screams turned to a garbled whimper, her untested vocal chords as weak as the muscles in her legs. As Ellie found herself in a crumpled heap on the floor tangled in IV tubes, she made a final desperate attempt to claw the bandages from her face hoping her incongruously light eyes would elicit some help from an airport patron. Benham pounced on her with a deadly speed, cradling her head and hands as she continued to wage a futile battle for release. The doctor was quick to suggest the escape attempt was an epileptic seizure reaching for a syringe from his medical case. Benham between his slow cooing noises was quick to agree with the diagnosis, letting the doctor jab a shot of sedative into Ellie’s struggling side exposing Ellie’s hospital gown and incontinence pad to the entire airport, bolstering her captor’s bogus backstory.

Benham allowed the airport staff to help him; a pair of helpful TSA agents regathering his dropped possession, while a passerby helped right the empty wheelchair. Benham remained rooted to the spot as he felt the fight slowly drain from his captive as she blacked-out, the last bit of her current resistance being snuffed out. He couldn’t help but place a chaste kiss on her unseeing temple. He listened as another airport official, empathised about his own family history with epilepsy, ushering the entire travelling party through security without even a cursory check. It was a deep irony to the terrorist that he could use people’s good intentions against them, conversely Ellie’s histrionics ensured that their passports were rubber-stamped without delay and their flight plans got bumped up the queue for permission to taxi. He thanked the two burly security guards who carried Ellie into the main cabin’s bedroom, rebuffing their offers for further help with the convenient excuse that the jet would be taking off imminently. 

He had won, he now intended to enjoy the spoils of victory.


	11. Chapter 11

Benham was disappointed at how completely the sedative subdued his plaything. He would punish her for the escape attempt later, he knew he derived the most pleasure from his games when their focal point were at least aware enough for him to feed off their energy, he thrummed in anticipation of the fear and pain he would cause. Benham knew physically that he had Ellie completely under his power, forever-more she would find herself physically outnumbered, restrained and outmatched. The first lessons would be important and cruel psychological blows, it would lay down a marker for the rest of her miserable life, he’d snuff out whatever misguided hope she would have of rescue or escape. He’d then be free to start her training. 

He undressed her slowly, daydreaming of the punishment he owed her for her little episode at the airport, he’d stamp out her resistance and reinforce the new central point to his little pet’s life, that she had a cruel and capricious master, that she would need to work hard to mollify him. He wanted her to be fully awake for the kind of foreplay he had in mind, he would be cruel and inventive in his punishments. Now his plaything was naked, he could see the hungry look on the doctor’s face, despite enjoying the sight too, he knew he’d enjoy this more if she was awake to gratify him with her distress. Benham smiled, he could wait, she would have to endure his attentions regardless. He could up the ante later including the doctor or Hayat in his games. Her relative stoicism so far was impressive, her stubborn bravery made him anticipate the sweet terror he would engender. He felt himself stiffen at this rather pleasing thought, he gestured to the doctor that he wanted to speak with him in the main room, he might as well relax before breaking his toy's resolve.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ellie was beginning to stir, she could feel a malevolent presence towering over her resting form. She had enough of her wits about her to understand where she was, instead she fought the last vestiges of slumber to speak to her captor directly. “Ugh…I’ll never give you what you want…hmmm… my clearance will be revoked…”. His response was only to smile, allowing a cold dread to descend on his weak captive, letting the realisation sink in that he had little to no interest in her NSA work. He watched in amusement as she tried with boneless limbs to maintain some distance between them. “No, No, No” was her flinching mantra as he approached the bed. He placed himself behind her, shushing her with the menacing threat of reintroducing the ball gag. His new position on the bed, gave him easy access, to crown her head with his custom VR set, Ellie’s weak desperate hand motions could not stop him, she was buckled to the contraption with comparative ease. He let her panicking fingers rack across the plastic prison encircling the top half of her head, he knew it was pointless but he indulged himself in the pleasure of watching her struggle for a few minutes, her weak hand motions melting into mute defeated sighs. It was positively music to Benham’s ears and the signal he needed to continue.

He directed Ellie’s head so his mouth was next to her imprisoned ear, he raised his voice slightly to accommodate any diminishment in her hearing owing to the VR set’s headphones, he would employ the noise cancelling functions later, it was more important now she heard his instructions for what she was about to see. He ran one hand possessively along her spine, as he informed her he had a little video commissioned for her enjoyment. He carped on about the impressive tech specs of device she was wearing as preamble until he reached his favourite feature, something he called eye detection. “If you stop watching or close your eyes for anything other than blinking” he explained, the mirth clear in his faux-casual tone, “I’ll know and the corrective will be quick”, his free hand pinched her nipple as a demonstration. Her eyes watered automatically in pain, she closed them quickly in an attempt to stem the tide of tears, only to be rewarded with a second pinch on her previously unmolested nipple, her captor giving a semi-playful knock on the plastic encasing her head, repeating the words “eye detection, dummy” as if she was a simpleton.

Benham let the film begin, his close contact with Ellie laying on top of his chest meant he could feel her body's reactions, unfiltered through words or a previously brave facade. Her small neck movements told him she was unfamiliar with VR in general. The screen in front of her eyes was showing her TV coverage, it looked like the aftermath of a bomb and the site looked chillingly familiar, it was the medical facility attached to Hayat’s spa. Benham chuckled as he heard Ellie’s audible gasp, he could feel her heart hammering in her chest, the inset on the news report showed her face, the scrolling chyron read ‘Decorated NSA agent, thwarted terrorist bomb plot’. Ellie felt hopeless, no one would be searching for her, her poor family all thought she was dead, it seemed like the whole world thought she was dead. She couldn’t concentrate on the fake plaudits from TV talking heads about her bravery, she prayed that this was an elaborate hoax but the ZNN footage seemed very real and reporting around the bomb-site was so accurate she could almost feel the fire and flames. Ellie’s hopelessness was absolute.

“Argh”, A double nipple tweak, forced her disconsolate eyes to open again. The voice behind her smirkingly told her she was missing the behind the scenes footage. The bile rose in Ellie’s stomach, pictures of her unconscious form flashed before her screen, the shake of her head doing nothing to stop the onslaught of images, she can discern her truck through grainy CCTV footage parked next to the spa, next she sees Hayat dressed in her clothes going into the adjoining building, although there is no sound her trained eyes can see flashes of light…shit gunfire, next there was an encompassing flash of brilliant white followed by an ominous wave of pluming black smoke… shit a bomb. Benham can feel her trembling in his arms, he is so deliciously satisfied by this, he’d jerk off if his hands weren’t already full. More pictures from the newspaper coverage flashed in front of her, they ran the gambit of fawning stories about her supposed heroic actions (the unreality of the praise that she had caught and killed the notorious head of the Brotherhood of Doubt was mind boggling) to the terse official statement by the NSA bigwigs that a Preemptive Terror Analyst had been killed in the line of duty. Then the TV coverage turned from the awful explosion to the human interest angle, Ellie watched a succession of ‘expert’ and tenuous acquaintance rhapsodise elegiacally about her ‘short tragic’ life, as random social media pictures narrated their stories. Each photo of happier times was a painful stab to Ellie, reminders of all that she had lost. 

Benham smiled in anticipation for the last reveal, as he followed the progress of VR video on the room’s TV screen, the overlay of the eye detection software, warning him his plaything’s pupils were dancing in overactive confusion. A video of a harried looking Jake, hounded by determined paparazzi shouting questions about cheating and infidelity as he ran to a neighbouring car, played in front of Ellie's eyes. Benham felt the soft self-comforting rocking motion no longer metronome against him, her body was rigid with incredulous anger at the clear betrayal the additionl surveillance footage of Jake and an unknown woman flashed introduced definitive evidence, the timestamps proving the unavoidable truth that Jake was never on assignment he was having an affair.

Adrenaline fuelled Ellie's body, flushing the last vestiges of sedation from her system, enabling her to pull bandy knees tight to her chest, rocking herself a little more forcefully now. Her keening noises were deliciously raw, the tight protective ball she had formed muffling the noise but displaying plainly her despair at her hellish reality and her husband’s perfidy. Benham extricated himself from the bed, leaving the weepy agent in a heap to disconsolately relive the video in loop until he was ready for her punishment and training, the muffled mewling sobs only fuelling his desire to take things further and darker.


	12. Chapter 12

Benham watched as the video footage neared completion for a second time, the original reaction to Jake’s infidelity was so satisfying he resigned to leaving the video play in full. He mounted the bed again and cradled Ellie as close to his chest as the headset allowed. He cut the audio feed, so she could hear him repeating “mine, all mine” as he rubbed slow gentle circles on her aureola in a parody of foreplay, allowing her to be tortured in VR and real-life as the video ended in soul-destroying darkness. Benham switched the noise canceling function on the VR headset. Allowing the sensory deprivation of lack of sound and sight to accentuate the sensation of his deft fingers. He continued to allow the VR headset’s audio to be channelled from a small microphone pinned temporarily to his lapel for this exact purpose. “Eleanor Bishop is dead” he can feel her cringe away from his touch and callous words, but he continues undaunted “You’ve seen the evidence with your own eyes, Ellie no longer exists either, you do not respond to that name, you no longer get to think of that name”, he punctuates these points with particularly sharp pinches to her abused breasts. “You are not a person, you are a possession… a plaything of mine. I own your body and I rule your mind, your new role in life is to please me, absolutely nothing else matters”. 

On a whim he let his monologue repeat in a loop in his prisoner’s ears allowing the message to sink cruelly in by repetition as he continues to mauls her breasts, happy to see her pale skin can accommodate such a pleasing array of bruised colours. He enjoys the sight, before finally he detaches the VR goggles from her dishevelled head. He likes the contrasting red colour in her dead tear-stained eyes shining through her pallid complexion. “I hate you” were the only words out of her mouth before she fretfully matched his gaze, he was looking at an evil gag along with several other cruel devices, the rest of her protests muted by the unspoken threat. “No matter little one, what you feel doesn’t matter anymore. The important thing to know is that I’ve won”, he patted down her wild hair condescendingly, “Your feelings and thoughts are irrelevant now. Anyway, like a kind master I have some presents to help you remember your place while I train you”.

Benham’s strong arms arranged his fearful pet to kneel in front of him. Despite her trembles he could sense the potential for the seeds of defiance in her, which he would shortly snuff out. The next set of humiliations were carefully calibrated to demean her, he enjoyed inflicting pain the more degrading the better. He intended to wring out as much pleasure as he could by chipping steadily away at her self-worth, one humiliation at a time. He wouldn’t break her immediately there was no fun or art to that approach, it would leave him with an empty shell to play with. The aim was to grind her spirit down steadily until the Parsas could no longer derive any please or benefit from her continued miserable existence. 

He captured her hair in a messy bun, appreciating now why his sister had forbade him from shaving it off, she looked so innocent, naked and at his mercy. He placed a collar on her neck without ceremony, feeling the precision-engineered tightness hug her neck, quashing a horrified gulp before she had the opportunity to complete it. It was designed to be just a little bit too tight, not painful but certainly uncomfortable a subtle and permanent reminder of her place in the world. He smacked her hand forcefully when he saw it stray towards the golden object, “Bad girl, no touching things that I own”. Benham gives a theatrical sigh, allowing the tension to build in Ellies mind, the fear of what could possibly happen next gnawing at the back of her mind. “You are to do nothing with out my permission, if you do… I will punish you. If you displease me… I will punish you, in fact I will punish you just because I enjoy it”. 

He paused letting his pronouncements sink in, as he reached for the item that had scared Ellie earlier, his hands organising a rather vicious looking gag. “Fuck oooohhh” Ellie’s brave words stopped as her fingers clawed back to her neck the unexpected jolt of electricity caused a torrent of pain down her body, she swayed unsteadily as her grasping fingers found no discernible clasp in their juddering clumsy movements. 

“You do not speak, you do not question me, you do not touch things that belong to me” the tight rage in Benham’s voice was unmistakeable, as he presaged each point with a quick tap on his watch eliciting a matching electro-shock from the collar. “Now, I trust there will be no misbehaviour as I place my gag on my toy”. The fight had left Ellie, she allowed him to place an o-ring gag in her mouth, fearing the punishment if she resisted. Her captor strokes her hair, telling her how good she looks with her new accessories, she flinches away at his words using her body language to belatedly register her disgust and displeasure, now that her ability to speak is curtailed. 

Benham reaches for her and pulls her easily back towards him using an eyelet on the hated collar, she cringes as the crook of his finger is all the effort that takes to marshal her body. Benham gives her a knowing smile “I sorted your escaping problem”, he taps his finger on her collared neck, “this has GPS and geofencing, I think you can guess what happens if you stray further than your Master allows”. Benham decides to remain silent on all the other useful features of what he affectionately thought of as a smart collar. “I’ve fixed your talking problem”, his finger traces the path of the gag leaving her mouth open and vulnerable in the characteristic o-shape an open invitation for further humiliation. Again this was another custom-crafted item, strapless and designed perfectly for his pet’s mouth, just like her collar it would be impossible to take off without the right tools, not that he had any mind to do this in the short term. 

“Now for the problem of your wandering hands”, Suddenly she was laid flat on the bed before she had fully processed the thrust of his threat, finding her wrists binding her in place by thick leather straps. “Well, little one, you already know what the inflight entertainment is”. He smiled at the gag garbled groan from her mouth, it was like manna from heaven. Without difficulty he placed the headset back on his pet, Ellie’s mute distress clear in her scrunched up eyes. He’d sync the eye tracking software to the punishment function on her collar, he was also eager to use some of the monitoring sensors hidden in the collar knowing that pulse rate and galvanic response would be crucial in honing specific and dedicated terror campaign on his beleaguered captive.

Hours passed in the solitude of her VR prison she had no way of telling the passage of time but it felt like an eternity. Spells of dark silence were only interrupted by the monotony of the cruel video again and again each time ending in Benham’s threatenting speech. A sharp shock from her collar, warned her to keep her eyes pealed to the sad predictable story whenever her heavy eyes drifted momentarily shut. She had become inured to the images flashing on her screen the repetition gave the video a deadening unreality. The twin worry that niggled in the back of her mind was that everyone thought she was dead and she figured she had been travelling a long time with her kidnappers. Where the hell was this plane going? If the flight was international, which was suggested by its current duration, she might as well kiss her slim hopes of rescue goodbye.


	13. Chapter 13

The doctor complied with Benham’s orders to sedate his captive, the underlying rationale was wanting no chances to be taken for the planned refuelling stop. He doubted the plane would be searched, but he knew that Benham’s meticulous attention to detail meant that despite the bribes paid for an uneventful transit, they would need to stage Ellie, yet again, as a recuperating Hayat. 

He entered the plane's bedroom stealthily, grinning to have some alone time with his one-time patient. He was already intimately familiar with her from both her conscious and unconscious physicals at the medical centre. He felt once again disappointed that their interactions would mainly take place while she was unconscious. As Benham was too busy on his laptop to chaperone him, he indulged himself by briefly tickling the soles of the captive’s bare feet, watching as her body turned taut with tension. He let his hand follow a pathway up her quivering leg teasingly stopping at the summit of her thigh, longing to continue his exploration untrammelled, but stopping for fear of Benham’s wrath. With her hands bound to the bed, he had easy access to the cannula he installed back in her house, he marvelled how Benham had positioned it upward inviting him to hook up any IVs with a minimum of fuss. The standard IV nutrient bag was unremarkable, functionally it would allow the captive to get some nutrition back in her system, he carefully spiked the liquid with a sedative, he could augment the mixture to include a paralytic or the muscle relaxant again, if he was directed to do so later. While waiting for the medicine to take hold, he arranged some further medical equipment to legitimise the fiction to the outside world again. 

Her nudity allowed him to place the EKG pads directly to her chest, her sluggish mind trying to understand the new turn of events. She only managed to get her limp arms to rattle the restraints, but she could feel a new wave of tiredness wash-over herself. Regardless, the heart rate monitor beeped into life. The doctor removed the plastic headset, he let her sleepy eyes wander the room, before gently using his fingers to coax those worried eyelids shut, before entombing the crown of her head in gauze again. He worked her now unresponsive form into a hospital gown, he used the same twin ruse of oxygen mask and cervical neck collar to hid Ellie’s latest jewellery. With the appearance of Benham at the doorway, he inquired about his boss's preference for restraints wondering if he should lock her limbs again, despite the fact Benham was in the process of stowing them away again. “No need brother, the gyroscope in the control collar will shock her if she tries to get up, I just turned the setting on now”, he closed the distance between the storage cupboard to inspect the doctor’s handiwork. He had grabbed a fresh nappy from his store and completed the invalid look with high tight compression socks.

The stopover worked seamlessly, the plane was refuelled, the passengers and crew were untroubled by any local authorities. Benham took the opportunity to give his sister a call, eager to find out when she would be making the same trip to their new home, pleased that his drug trade connections had proven very useful so far. Benham and the doctor remained in companionable silence eating and resting as they both saw fit, untroubled by their sedated victim.

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Ellie could hear the low rumble of the plane between the steady beeps of the heart rate monitor. She could feel a cottony softness on her face rather than the rigid plastic headset. She remained rooted to the spot still trying to sense if either of the kidnappers were in the room with her. She took stock of her situation, blindfolded and collared, but as she moved her wrists experimentally. She was not restrained, similarly she could move her feet. She teased the problem in her mind, could she incapacitate Benham before he could employ his electro-shock collar? In her mind she plotted out the steps, she’d rip out the IV, remove the bandaging over her eyes, if the doctor had left his medical gear in this room, she could jury-rig a weapon otherwise she’d need to fight hand-to-hand. 

The EKG noises stopped, indicating she was no longer alone, someone was fiddling with the machines beside her, “Good you are awake, we will be landing soon, I thought I’d let you freshen up before your last costume change”. She didn’t resist her kidnapper’s help getting herself upright, once the neck brace was disguarded. The oxygen mask was removed next after a soft tug released the EKG pads. She could feel the warmth of his hands on her face presumably unravelling the gauze trapping her in darkness. “Pet, open you eyes”, she could feel his breath on her face, she relented slowly testing the sensitivity of her tired eyes to the cabin room’s lights. Benham dominated her view proffering a glass of water. She drank greedily, worried about dehydration rather than the awkward angle of the glass, when coupled with the o-ring in her mouth it meant she spilled as much water as she managed to gulp down. Possessively he pulled the tie by her neck, allowing the wet hospital to fall to the side “Do you need to use the bathroom?” 

Ellie knew she was being conditioned to follow his orders, but she also knew that after hours (maybe days) of being trussed up in increasingly strained circumstances she was beginning to fear her muscles would atrophy. She wanted to stretch her legs and case out the aircraft beyond the confines of the bedroom, before another flimsy excuse was given to restrain her again. With slow tentative movements, Benham shadowed every step of the way as she moved to the bathroom. She no longer registered the debasement of her nudity, when she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, it was like watching a stranger, her sunken eyes and dark hair certainly made her look like a different person, maybe it wasn’t so strange that she felt like a different person too.

He clicked his fingers at her like she was a recalcitrant puppy, directing her back to the bedroom. “Okay, now for your costume”, he pushed over a wheelchair, Ellie could see a bundle of material as well as the heavy boots from her earlier journey through the private airport. “I will loosen the setting on the gag if you promise to remain silent, no speaking unless you are spoken to…right?” Her mind screamed to defy him, but her achy limbs hoped that appeasement might make his evil plans less severe.

Once booted, she observed Benham gathering the black material in his hands, in an uncharacteristic display of kindness he fiddled with his watch, she could hear a faint clicking sound near her ear and a corresponding loosening to the tight metal no longer forcing her mouth into an unnatural o-shape. She tested her jaw experimentally, not able to close her mouth entirely but this was a vast improvement to her earlier state, she felt disgustingly grateful for this small mercy. His command of “arms, please”, was complied with promptly, only understanding the trap of the amorphous material, once she found her arms straight-jacketed tight to her body through some clever tailoring, the loose folds of the burqa obscuring this troubling fact to outside eyes. “Now pet, it’s time to show you a further feature of your collar, this is called anchor-pointing”. He directed her to sit in the wheelchair, so far so unremarkable, when he lifted her out again, she felt the sharp pain of an electric shock causing her to half-buckle her body more fully against the waiting Benham. “The collar is at a low setting, I will be turning it up for our trip through the airport, absolutely no funny business, if you move from the chair you will just about fry your little noggin”. He didn’t wait for a reply, he completed the burqa with a large veil with a thin barely-there eyeslit. Positioning her once again so that her collar magnetically connected to the headrest on the wheelchair, Benham readied himself for the plane's landing.

Behind the headdress, Ellie took in the sights and sounds of the airport. Given Benham’s level of confidence, in the back of her mind she was expecting to hear Urdu or maybe an arabic dialect, she could have made inferences on her location based on this. Hearing Spanish over the tannoy was like a bolt from the blue. She cursed her drugged blackouts she had no way of knowing if they were in Central or South America. She wondered if Benham realised she was fluent in the spanish, not that she would have been allowed the freedom to inform him given her current restrictions.


	14. Chapter 14

Nick lounged in the low Argentinian sun, one of the few perks of working for Narcos was the hedonistic lifestyle and Buenos Aires provided the most perfect backdrop for this. Pool-side cocktails was a casual way to stay tight with the right cartel people and hear their juicy gossip. Even dirt-bag drug dealers would find their lips loosened by the signature Torres charm offensive, he was very curious about the scuttlebutt that there was a new moneyman sniffing around making overtures about an alliance. 

The cartel he’d infiltrated were pretty heavy into the main cash-crop drugs, as well as dabbling in the lucrative opioids trade. If the overheard conversations could be believed the moneyman would be directing funds straight from their terroristic activities into the cartel. This worried Nick, after years working deep-cover he knew how to handle himself but this could be massive. He knew a cash injection would allow the Narcos to bring further misery and crime to the communities they already had their tendrils in and a potential platform to increase their reach globally and if the rumours were true open up new opportunities in the North American marketplace. 

Nick kept his outward disposition sunny, as an undercover agent he knew that his cover was only as good as the confidence he could exude. Like any club, camaraderie was important he’d engage in chitchat with his boys and grab his round at the bar at the appropriate time, connections and friendships were a currency. But his training kept him hyper vigilant to his surrounding and the people at this party. Using his natural charm he intended to inveigle himself into the orbit of some bigger fish and see how for up the food chain he could get, even if it meant a slap on the wrists from the big-wigs in NCIS for going dark for a temporary period of time, his moral compass told him this dangerous endeavour would be for the greater good.

Nick had enjoyed the celebrations immensely but he could tell things were winding down for the last few hours, the club owner wouldn't dare kicking out his gang but Nick started to notice that even the most party-hungry civilians had gone home over an hour ago. At this late stage, he could see the clear distinction between his colleagues who liked to partake in the ‘company products’ their telltale manic buzzing about a non-existent afterparty spoke to the white powder they used to fuel their enthusiasm, Those teammates that were merely stocious, may have bad hangovers in the morning, at least these blokes had some sense and he wouldn't need to actively avoid jobs with this drunken cohort, it was the drugged gangbangers that worried him most. It was the clear-eyed people that Nick knew would be management material rather than the hired grunts, these were the bigwigs he needed to cosy up to. He could see the big boss, talking to a couple at his private booth, this piqued Nick’s interest, could this be the much vaunted moneyman? Javier was talking to a unfamiliar man, who seemed to be very engaged with the animated story that his boss was peddling, the brunette by his side seemed bored and disinterested in the extreme. Nick could tell this would be the opportune time to sweep this señorita off her feet, remind Javier that he was one of his few able lieutenants left standing at this party and generally hunt for the inside scoop.


	15. Chapter 15

Ellie couldn’t find the words to describe her utter boredom. The bright white monotony of the room was stultifying, she hadn’t seen or interacted with anyone for at least a few days. She couldn’t really tell how long it had been, there was no clock or window to give her a hint at the passage of time. When Benham dispatched her to the isolated room, he was again crystal clear in his humiliating controlling rules: she would be allowed use the bathroom once a day, she would get food once a day and she could use her bed once the lights were turned off each night. With absolutely no stimulation Ellie was going stir-crazy, she exercised and retreated into her eidetic memory in an effort to relieve the dragging hours. She had tested the rules carefully, but the collar ensured her compliance, the bathroom could not be entered until the light was turned on in the small cubicle and she couldn’t lie on her bed until conversely the lights in the main cell were turned off. Any small infraction caused a sharp shock through her collar. There seemed to be no hard or fast rule on the eating front, a smoothie would be sent through the grate in the white padded door a couple of hours after the bright white lights were turned on. Ellie found the drink unappetising in the extreme, yet she’d try to finish the gruel each day, rationing out the unpalatable mush as a way to occupy her time in her sterile white cell, hoping her body could eke out enough nutrition from the bland drink. 

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Benham smiled as he reviewed Ellie’s metrics, luxuriating in his plush leather chair scrolling through the figures on his laptop. For the past few days Ellie had followed his regimen to the letter of his law. He liked compliance, it took most of his self-control to leave his new pet alone, especially her earlier misbehaviour when he found her testing the limits of his monitoring and control. He knew isolation would be an effective tool to keep her in-check, starved of company and intellectual stimulation she would soon understand her world revolved around his own mercurial will. He was already controlling her aphrodisiac-laced food-intake and he was manufacturing a gradual decrease in her allotted sleep time. Sleep deprivation was a sure fire way of keeping a captive on edge. He figured by the time Hayat returned she would no doubt be anxious to get playtime with his pet too. They could work a rota to ensure his plaything’s circadian rhythm would be shot. He would tone down his natural inclination for pure torture, he had to avoid pushing her to a total mental collapse, he would need to be satisfied with poking around the edges of her sanity and stability, after expending so many resources in her capture, he wanted to maximise the return on his investment.

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Benham strolled into Ellie’s cell without fanfare, his sense of entitlement evident in his demeanour, he gave his plaything a pitying look as her reflexive action was to preserve her modestly with the bedsheets before thinking better of this petty act of resistance. “Did you miss me pet?” He smiled broadly, he found it deliciously cruel that leaving Ellie to wallow in despair had some notable benefits, she seemed less quick to flinch away and he could see that she was self-policing her actions with his overriding preferences in the forefront of her battered mind. He decided to push things a little to see how far her good behaviour would extend. “So little one, I left you to your own devices so you could reflect on your behaviour, I trust you are sufficiently motivated to do better?”. Ellie watched distrustfully knowing that the question was rhetorical. “Now when I enter a room you are to kneel and await orders”, he stopped momentarily to see if he needed to provide some electro-motivation, but he only observed meek compliance from the former NSA agent. “When I am seated, you are to place your head in my lap, Yes, hmmmm like that. This will be your main anchor point and you are not to move until I give you permission”. He liked her ready submissiveness, his plan to keep her off-balance with a barrage of debasing demands seemed to be working. He ruffled her hair playfully as she was forced to use his lap as a pillow, he could see from her tired bearing that the continued sleep deprivation was helping wear her resistance down nicely. “Good girl” he whispered paternalistically, patting her head condescendingly. A complicated knot of emotion twisted in Ellie’s stomach, she felt relief but simultaneously she hated the charade she was engaged in. Her psyche was so battered she figured that if compliance would earn her a reprieve from punishment she’d absorb the indignity.

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Nick was under no illusions about his life. He knew his undercover work forced him to be around some irredeemable people, he could rationalise most of the bad things he was forced to do or witness, compartmentalised neatly away in the back of his conscience. He traded small acts of criminality to keep tight to the cartels bosses while trying to undermine these illegal organisations from within.  
He was always careful not to get too caught up in illegal activity but today he felt like he had plonked himself straight in the spider’s lair and the extra levels of danger this entailed. 

He drove his passengers out into the Argentinian countryside, he had a foreboding sense of what each of the car's occupants were capable of. Javier (his boss) was a greedy man, you only get to run a cartel if your loadstar is money and a casual disregard for the shattered lives your products leave behind. Hayat, the female from the bar, was something more terrifying, beneath her steely facade, he couldn’t really understand what made her tick, her motivation didn’t seem to be money or ideology. If the rumours where true and she was the bagman for a terrorist outfit. Nick hadn’t been able to figure it out last night, despite all his sweet talking and banter. Nick wasn't overly worried about Hayat's companion from last night, as he left to catch a red-eye flight, however he was apprehensive that the man's destination was back to the US. He could only hope in the short-term that he was doing the right thing sticking close to Javier and Hayat, now that he was missing his scheduled check-in with his handler to chauffeur these people around, he’d need to rely on his own detective work, rather than running this up the NCIS chain of command. He figured his passengers should be his overriding priority.

He mused how the world would be a better place if he would only drive the car off a cliff with these monsters in tow. It was their missing third confederate that stopped him from this drastic course of action, he’d need a clean-sweep of the triumvirate to make burning his cover worth it. He knew from Hayat’s coy allusions in their conversations last night and Javier’s brisk no-nonsense manner with him, that they were cooking up nefarious plans, but they had not come to full agreement yet. Nick steeled himself, nervously thinking about tackling three high powered targets, for the first time in months his heartfelt desire was to have some back-up facing this seemingly intractible problem.


	16. Chapter 16

Benham slowly massaged Ellie’s scalp, letting her enjoy the endorphins from their close contact after long days of loneliness. He was confident her hormone-laced food had nicely shifted her equilibrium. “We have an important appointment, I’ll get you dressed and showered”. He flicked a button idly on his watch and softly dislodged Ellie's head from his lap. She let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding in, pathetically grateful to have avoided further electric shocks. She followed Benham without question, her mind focusing on trailing her ostensible master rather than taking in the depressing sights or sounds of her prison compound. Her starved mind did not have time to process the incongruity of his statement about dressing for a shower. 

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Ellie could feel a red burning shame as she stood before an admiring Benham Parsa. He had manacled each of her four limbs with matching gold bands. From a distance she assumed they could be construed as tennis bracelets, but up close, hidden clasps kept them locked much like her collar. The smooth gold was only interrupted by a few eyelets interspersed on the unforgiving metal, presumably to bind her to things. Her theory was borne out when their next stop was a shower room, she could see plenty of notches and niches built into the wall and floor that could efficiently bind her in a cornucopia of positions. Ellie felt the cold dread in the pit of her stomach, her mind terrorised by the thought that something so bad was about to happen that the threat of electric shocks wouldn't keep her in check.

She soon found out, chained under the shower-head, she let the water washout her dyed hair. She hoped the steady stream of water was obscuring her tears. The burning shame she felt as Benham shaved her intimate areas was beyond her comprehension, with her arms and legs pinioned she couldn't fight him off, in his methodical progress. She could rationalise most of the other degrading behaviour during the kidnapping, but some crucial piece of her self-respect was stolen, washed down the drain with her small tufts of blonde hair. There was something inextricable in these actions that made her feel like an object, one that was utterly and totally owned by the leader of a terrorist cell.

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Benham waited for his visitors in his plush study, enjoying a quick drink while relaxing in his leather swivel-chair. He watched the security feed of Hayat's return and scanned through the other video feeds idly trying to find the doctor's whereabouts. If his sister’s assessment was correct a partnership with Javier and his cartel would be lucrative in the extreme, while he was happy to direct the Brotherhood of Doubt he needed to supplement his own income with something more bankable. With his pet’s head on his lap he felt deliciously powerful, he was sure with the sizeable seed money he was offering, his return on investment would be manifold. The disconsolate blonde next to him felt like his own personal lucky charm, he'd secure his financial future shortly and then he'd enjoy breaking in his pet, satisfied that all his plans were properly in place.

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The Parsa compound was impressive in the extreme, aside from the armed security upfront it could have been any unremarkable millionaire’s bolthole. Nick could see the greed in Javier’s eyes, clearly liking his salubrious surroundings noting the cars parked out front like multicoloured eyesores against the manicured greenery, he could see the tennis courts and pool away from the main house, the estate dripped of money.

Hayat acted imperiously as always, barking orders to the security at the front gates. She shouted at some flunkies about her luggage after he offered her an escorting hand from his car in a vain attempt to mollify the angry woman. Nick didn’t need to understand Urdu to know her gestures and tone were menacing in the extreme, he could see the fear Hayat engendered in her underlings as the disappeared fretfully with her suitcases. She was clearly was used to ruling the roost. Nick watched as she switched back to her friendly facade, acknowledging his proffered hand with a sultry smirk before joking and flirting with Javier. She easily flattered the corpulent old man with a suggestive hand brushing against the cartel bosses arm, some actions and behaviours could be easily understood even without a common language. Nick tried to keep a neutral face, as his professional training kicked in, observing his surroundings in case he needed to make a hasty retreat in the near future.

The continued flirting of Hayat and Javier, meant that Nick was left to worry about his boss’s bags instead of his own. Nick was very clear he was invited as the hired muscle, with his fluency in english and spanish offering him an opportunity to act as interpreter for Javier. Hayat gave them a whistle-stop tour of the house, allowing Nick to drop Javier’s bags at their designated accommodations in the pool house, ahead of the planned meeting with Hayat's associate.

As Javier enjoyed the plush surroundings on the way to the meeting he remarked on the various works of art adorning the walls. Nick couldn’t help but find the whole house grim and sterile, his hackles were raised at the fact they were heading straight to a meeting to do business, tactically this left him little option but to follow his boss, rather than collect his own gear from the car. Hayat swanned through the hallway full of eager anticipation, he watched as a succession of hired help observed her progress cagily and seemed to disappear in the opposite direction as soon as the first opportunity arose, their female guide seemed to revel in the discomfort of her staff. Nick felt nervously for the weight of his gun concealed in his waistband, something felt severely off about this whole affair and this house in general.


	17. Chapter 17

“Brother, I’ve returned” Hayat gave Benham a wide smile, lowering her right hand from her heart straight to the bound agent on her brother’s lap, ruffling newly restored blonde hair. The half groan/half whimper that emanated from the captive, told her that her gag was extended to its widest settings and she could spy hints of a collar twinkling through the loose tendrils of light hair. She proffered her hand expectantly to Benham, demanding her personal key to unlock Ellie’s adornments. She played with it briefly before pocketing it and continued with her conversation, “I brought you the cartel boss from the city. He is lamentably as stupid as he is fat. So I’m sure you can bend him to your will. As he speaks no Urdu and only middling English, I have permitted him to bring a rather fetching underling as translator”. Ellie parsed their rapid Urdu exchange, she was so used to Benham’s slow one-sided conversations, that it took her a minute to understand the implications of their words, she was about to be embarrassed in front of a larger audience, as if this hell on earth couldn’t get any worse, Benham was about to team-up with some drug-dealing scum cartel members.

“Would you like me to take our pet, allow you boys to talk shop?.” Ellie can feel a featherlight touch brush possessively up her back, tickling the exposed vertebra as her neck craned onto her captor’s lap. “I’m sure I can teach her how to warm me up for the totty outside”. Ellie could feel Benham’s sudden anger telegraphed through his tightening grip on her hair, she struggled to suppress a gurgled sob, hating what her life has become. “Thank you sister we’ll both see them now. I see no reason to inconvenience myself further”, Benham’s voice was cold and calculating, “if I like what I hear we can formalise the business details tomorrow. The meeting now, only needs to be a brief interlude, the doctor will organise some hospitality for our guests to keep them occupied, you can join me when I play with this little morsel later”. Ellie couldn’t tell if the female Parsa was stung by the initial rejection or anticipating the future fun her brother offered. She listened to Hayat leaving and returning quickly to Benham’s side with the promised cartel men in tow. Ellie still stuck to her kidnapper’s side, listening morosely to Hayat’s introductions, predictably her own presence was glossed over as if she was just a part of the office furniture.

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Once beckoned into the study, Nick could tell he was dealing with some sick fucks. He wasn’t expecting boy-scouts, especially after the rumours of terrorism, but it would appear that Hayat’s brother was deep into people trafficking, some poor nameless nude resting her head on his lap. His physical sickness fell off-the-charts at the tasteless joke that Javier muttered to him. As he fought the bile in the back of his throat he wondered if the poor girl’s barely perceptible falter was a reaction to the cruel jibe in spanish or Hayat’s playing an obscene game of footsie with the kneeling unresisting blonde as she introduced them to her brother. 

It felt odd to be conversing in english after months of undercover work, but Nick knew his language skills probably swung him this job, so he could not be found wanting. If he could sink the cartel and this terrorist asshole he knew he’d be making the world a much safer place. He ensured that the conversation flowed back and forth, concentrating on the job rather than his own feelings of anger and revulsion. He tried not to think of his sister and niece, he knew that he had to work for the greater good here too.

After days of silence and solitude, Ellie found it overwhelming to be around so many people. She listened to the terse negotiations between the two factions, Benham and Hayat breaking into Urdu every so often, as their two guests also held sidebar conversations in Spanish, before each faction returned to english as their linga franca. In her previous life this kind of information would be the vital lifeblood in curbing the machinations of both sides, as she listened as an unwilling witness, she felt a hot rage bubbling inside her. She could detect the faintest American accent from one of the visitors, his boss seemed to be Mexican but she knew this wasn’t her area of expertise, they seemed to be talking about a drugs pipeline into the USA, with Benham providing the financial backing. Her mind whirred back into gear, after days of isolation, she felt vaguely human for the first time in days, exerting her considerable analytic skills on the information she was now privy to.

After a short negotiations, Javier broke into his pigeon English, exhorting that they had a deal and he wanted to seal it with a toast. Ellie prayed she would be exiled back to her room instead of forced to partake in some sick orgy. She could not detect any change in Benham’s stroking pattern his strong fingers still massaging her scalp, but she could hear the buzzing noise of an intercom behind her. She could hear the smile in Benham’s voice when he greeted the doctor in delight at his ‘perfect timing’, doubly satisfied when the answer to the question of if he procured booze and bitches seemed to be satisfactory to Benham and his elder guest. The following lecherous laughter solidifying a common bond between the two men. “Gentlemen, if you excuse me momentarily, the doctor will escort you to the party, I will join you imminently.” Benham’s words and his polite veneer did nothing to assuage Ellie’s fear, she could hear the shuffling of chairs behind her back, she was at the mercy of the two people in the world she hated and feared most.


	18. Chapter 18

With a click of his finger, Benham indicated he wanted Ellie to stand, Hayat’s eyes took in her form hungrily now that she was at her full height. “Hmmmm, why can’t we play for a little bit, I’ve already wasted one night too many with that boor, Javier”, Hayat’s petulant words were reinforced as she forcefully played with Ellie’s bound hands, “I was looking forward to adding some more jewellery and maybe having some other fun, I’m sure she begs real pretty”, she gave Ellie a wicked grin and winked at her brother. She understood Benham’s proclivity for pain and hurt, but didn’t feel this should preclude her from getting some action too. Benham let out an annoyed sigh, the pressures of closing this deal was more important in the short term, to mollify his sister and satiate his own desire he decided the best course was to get the doctor to babysit his pet temporarily, maybe force his captive to endure some VR porn and then he could enjoy a late night session with the blonde once he had grown tired of the party

The rational part of Ellie’s mind told her that as sadists, the only thing that satisfied either Parsa was her pain and fear. She had enough of them gorging off her toxic emotions. Fear was a reaction she could no longer afford, courage would need to be her solution. Being sentenced to endure the doctor’s company caused her more revulsion than anxiety, but he was a far less daunting adversary than her bête noire, Benham Parsa and now that she knew the Parsa’s plan she’d would have to try to stop them even if it seemed utterly futile.

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Nick allowed the enigmatic doctor to lead them out poolside towards the promised party, he could already tell that Javier would need to excuse himself to get his little blue pills, the soiree contained nothing more than several women in various stages of undress, arrayed around an open champagne bar. Nick took advantage of the opportunity to probe his escort, as his boss went to ‘freshen up’ as he had predicted. He was particularly interested (guilty) about the mute girl he had seen in the office. “Yep, tasty piece of American tail, that’s the thing about Benham he’ll move heaven and earth to get what he wants”. Nick was glad when the doctor excused himself to double back to aid his employer, concentrating on his phone rather than the expression on the reeling undercover agent’s visage. Nick was ashen faced, the name Benham and terrorism were synonymous with the Brotherhood of Doubt, even if he could only dimly recall the name on the Most Wanted Wall in NCIS HQ, he could remember the splashy news stories touting his death a few weeks ago. He could only curse Javier for getting him involved in this absolute shit-show, holy crap he thought, had just met Benham Parsa.

Nick schooled his features into a tight smile when the brother and sister terrorist team approached him, the clearly didn’t linger to discuss maters with the now-absent doctor. Hayat laughed knowingly when Nick explained Javier absence. He allowed the Parsa’s to start the party in anticipation of his boss’s imminent return. Given the conversation that Nick had with the doctor, he resolved to ascertain if the bevvy of beautiful women at the bar were here under duress too and if he could gather anymore information on the captive blonde who was now presumably under guard with the doctor. 

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Ellie did not trust the doctor, although Benham had been categorical in his instructions that she was ‘off-limits’, she had a sinking feeling the doctor didn’t have such self-control or desire to follow orders while he was unsupervised. He led her into a random bedroom rather than her pervious cell. His slow lingering touches as he tested each manacle made Ellie's skin crawl. He invaded her personal space as he tilted her head backwards to view her collar perched invitingly on her throat, she could feel his trousers tenting on her exposed skin. The raw rage she felt at the addition of a chain-leash to her collar, was tempered slightly when he loosened her gag, he had a key just like Hayat. With a hand on her cheeks he took the liberty of a deep kiss, forcing her closer with the leash pulled taut in his other hand, clearly overcome by his own pent up desires. In a reaction borne from habit and three older brothers her knee found the soft target of his groin automatically, it was so odd to hear the sound of a painful mewl that wasn’t her own, as her kidnapper doubled over in pain, Ellie almost forgot to finish what she started, as she was momentarily stunned by the doctor’s unguarded position. In her best Princess Leia move she garrotted the doctor without hesitation, the look of surprised horror frozen on the medical man’s face. 

Ellie’s heart was racing as she prised the special unlocking tool from the doctor’s cold dead hands, her hands and feet were easily released from their manacles, as was the now bloodied leash. The hasp on her collar was proving more challenging, she clawed at it desperately, unable to get the angle right to unlock it, she cringed trying to calm her nerves. She sucked in deep breaths, should she try for a weapon given that either Parsa could return for her at any moment.

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Hayat watched jealously as Nick chatted with the hired skanks, even in the low light she could see how these girls fawned at the smallest kindness shown to them, jealously she thought she would have appreciated at least some of the same attention from the Javier’s underlying. Her brother and cartel boss were engaged in a broken conversation, a couple of giggling girls lewdly sandwiched between them. She sighed, resolving to raid the doctor’s room for something to add a bit more spice to her night, maybe she would have a quickie with that Nick guy if she could find something to put them both in the mood, she’d need to pace herself for whatever debauchery Benham had planned with Ellie.

When she entered the doctor’s room her first thought was that bastard doctor was holding out on her, whatever floozy he hooked up with from the party was moaning on the bed. She could see long hair whipping in a wild frenzy. As her curiosity brought her closer she noticed the telltale gold band around her neck, that stupid bloody bastard would be gutted by Benham for taking liberties with his plaything. As she moved to marshal the situation, she was unprepared for the swing arm followed by a jabbing a needle in her neck. As her body hit the floor she recognised the doctor’s cold dead eyes staring at her sightlessly from underneath the bed. 

Ellie’s heartbeat hammered like a runaway train, she had heard Hayat’s approach and improvised accordingly. She didn’t believe she could be that lucky again if Benham came calling or if someone noticed Hayat’s absence. She knew fatalistically she was on borrowed time anyway, the whole world believed she was dead anyway and in truth she felt a little dead inside too. The doctor’s drugs might have proved useful if she could get up close and personal with Benham, but with her control collar she could not afford to be brazen. She tried to think if there was a gun safe in Benham’s office, her perfect recall brought back only dull hours spent actually naval gazing in the terrorist’s lap. She could try ringing for help, she knew he had a phone in the office, but she could imagine how unhinged she would sound to anyone who answered her call. Ellie mulled over her options she’d need to act urgently.


	19. Chapter 19

Feigning a casual nonchalance with the party girls, Nick used his bar-side vantage point to keep his main threats in his eye-line, he watched dismayed as Hayat disappeared into the darkness of the main house, leaving Javier and Benham to cavort with two particularly desperate blondes. Nick was trying to weigh up the pros and cons of taking immediate action. Despite the limited number of bullets he had, he’d happily expend the full chamber on the vile terrorist Benham Parsa, besides he smirked he could easily defeat a fat old man like Javier in his sleep, but he'd also need to tackle Hayat. A blur of motion belatedly caught his attention, wrenching him out of his daydream, as a string of angry Spanish invectives spilled from his boss’s mouth.

He needed to do a double take, an interloper in Hayat's clothing was standing over the terrorist, an empty syringe in hand. It took him a second to piece together the events, as Benham crumbled to the ground gasping succumbing to an air embolism. Next, the small woman knocked over Javier, she was like a possessed person as she drove her hands over and over again into Javier’s meaty face . He watched as the partygoers dispersed in turmoil shouting at the chaotic murder scene. The Hayat lookalike ignored the commotion, not caring that security would be imminently upon them. He knew he needed to act fast. He lifted the attacker from Javier, hoping he could prove what side he was on by dispatching the crime-boss with a gunshot to the temple. It was this loud noise that seemed to knock the battling woman out of her fugue state, watching him with a deep distrust. Nick could see the trauma in her eyes.

Ellie watched the man with the gun distrustfully, her heart sang with pride that she had rid the world of the twin Parsa evil, somehow going down fighting didn’t seem so bad, she had no further plan once she dispatched Benham. When the other man killed his boss, she was struck by a painful bout of self-doubt, had she just traded one evil for another? What was she going to do now?

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The man placed the gun by her side, retreating back to a respectful distance with his hands raised in the air. This allowed Ellie to decide the next move, her mind poured over the implications of this small surrender, if it was a ruse, this man must be playing four-dimensional chess, she couldn’t understand his actions. Her sore hands shook as she managed to get her bloody hands on the gun, she felt the weight, discerning that there were still further bullets in the gun. She finally surveyed the scene in front of her, readying to make her next move.

“I’m Nick” the man states still with his hands in the air, “are you injured?, can I help you?, we should get away before security comes”. Ellie works the words out slowly, her voice hoarse from lack of use, her plaintive plea is for the removal of the collar on her neck, which he does using the unlocking doohickey provided to him. He can see the taut angry circle haloing her neck and he feels that familiar anger in the pit of his stomach again. “Ok Miss, you can have my jacket, I don’t want you going into shock. I’m Agent Nick Torres, NCIS… you are safe, I’m going to get you home.” 

Although this man has shown her more kindness in 5 minutes than she has experienced in recent time, she knows she will for evermore be slow to trust anyone. This could just be a ploy by this stranger. Her original plan hadn’t gone further than her suicidal attack on Benham, his companion was an afterthought but a vital and surprise revenge for his earlier crude joke. She looked at her own bloody hands, focussing on keeping the shakes under control, she took the safety off the gun, she was willing to fight her way out.

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Nick could see a haunted wild look in her eyes, he wasn’t sure she’d let him take charge, in fact he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t shoot him on the spot. He recognised a level of training in the way she wielded the weapon, although her eyes made skittish darts in the direction of the slightest sounds, but there was still a tactical acuity in her bearing. Nick feared the security detail at the gate would be investigating the gunshot and fleeing woman. “Can you impersonate Hayat again?” Nick tried to keep his tone neutral, he didn’t want to add further stress to the situation. Once she nodded her assent, he directed her to his car. He could see her baulk when he presented the first aid kit, his intention was they could wrap her hairline in gauze to disguise her drying blond hair and bolster their claims of injury. When he finally got her acquiescence, Nick slowly wrapped the bandages, trying to ignore each reciprocal wince that accompanied every cottony loop. He added some iodine to the bandages dirtying the pristine whiteness with dark streaks. He noted the convincing effect his co-conspirator’s bloody hands made as she reached to probe the bandaged mass. She spurned his attempts to help her into the car, when he suggested she should use his jacket to obscure the gun on her lap, she slowly obliged regretting the temporary loss of warmth, neither of them tackled the subject of why she still had the weapon trained on him. As he started the engine, he remembered to tell her the guards didn’t speak Spanish. For a short minute he thought he might have seen the person she was before, her tight smile informing him she could speak 6 languages she just needed to know which one, when he shrugged apologetically, he could see her logical mind shine through.

Nick slowed the car as they approached the fortified gates, he could see the security guards were on edge, their automatic rifles poised in the direction of the car. Next to him, his Hayat lookalike screamed blue bloody murder on the phone, her voice a terrifying combination of hoarse and threatening. Even Nick flinched when he heard her bash the phone against the dashboard before continuing her shouted tirade. This seemed to seal the deal, the security team quickly ushered them out of the compound, looking very relieved that they didn’t need to deal with an injured harpy like Hayat. Nick speed away into the distance before anyone could discover the bodycount they left behind them.

Ellie tore through the bandages one-handed, the adrenaline she’d used to fuel her escape was waining. She could feel the days of malnourishment and mistreatment catch up with her, but she could not stand being bound in anyway. Nick had commandeered his phone once they escaped the compound. She noted he had switched to english, reeling off the facts and figures to his handlers on the other end of the phone-line; when he closed out the call with a request for evacuation for both of them, Ellie finally felt like she could breathe again. 

“Do you have a safehouse?”. Nick gave her a slow nod in response to the question, purposely not commenting on her switch to english, but relieved that she was instigating conversation. They drove in silence, Nick suppressing his naturally chatty nature in deference to his travel companion. He could tell that she was unable to share a tête-à-tête about the circumstances behind her presence at a terrorist’s mansion in rural Argentina. Nick would need to bide his time and earn her trust.

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The safehouse had a very basic setup, the rudiments of bed, shower and kitchenette were present but the luxury of space was not on offer. Nick rifled through the kitchen in quick order finding nothing but MREs, he made a pretence of not noticing Ellie’s eyes following him anxiously, as if he was liable to explode. He took no offence to her caginess, they were virtually strangers after all, but he could see the stress and discomfort painted on his housemate’s face as she tried to hike down Hayat’s short skirt, unsure of what to do next. “Listen roomie, why don’t you take my bag, there’s change of clothes in there, you might as well get comfortable, we’ll be waiting for a while”, he tried to sweeten the deal giving her his winningest smile as he theatrically waved the pre-packaged meals, “I’ll get the dinner on, my Mac and Cheese is to die for”. He felt like a comedy genius when he spied the small upturn in her lips, “OK. You can call me Ellie, you know”.

Nick heated the food, conscious that no matter how he plated it, he couldn’t hide the slop-like consistency. He called out for Ellie, enjoying the contour of her name on his tongue, it seemed so natural. She appeared in short order, looking comical in his overlarge clothes, there was no mirth in Nick’s response, his shirt seemed to overemphasise her fragile frame and he could see his boxer shorts peaking out between the juncture of shirt and low slung jeans. Nick cringed those bloody bastards hadn’t given her underwear. He watched in mute astonishment as Ellie, shovelled the steaming food into her mouth, as if it was going to disappear. He was gratified by her lip smacking noises, as he gathered his courage for the next conversation. “So Ellie, I was thinking I could take the first watch, you get some sleep, then vice versa. Would that be ok?”. He didn't tell her he had no intention of walking her up, he'd guard her through out the night. 

Ellie wolfed down the food, it was warm and flavourful, she couldn’t shake the feeling that having cutlery was a luxury, it was crazy how her perceptions had now shifted. She was grateful that Nick waited until she had finished her meal before he broached his question. She did feel haggardly tired but she knew she couldn’t bring herself to rest even if her body ached for respite. She wondered how Nick would deal with her dissent. She felt so emotionally overwrought the thought of sleep brought the agitated thought of the possibility of nightmares and flashbacks. To his credit Nick looked puzzled rather than hurt to have his offer rebuffed. “Ok, no sleep for the moment”, he confirmed gently, “but will you let me look at your hands, I can dress the wounds, I could really do with the distraction?”. 

Ellie sensed it was a ploy, but she could detect the sincerity in Nick’s voice that he really wanted to help her. They both tried to ignore her skittishness, flinching visibly when Nick approached to touch her hands. Ellie figured her frontal lobe would now scream suspicions at every turn, this was just her unfortunate new normal. Rationally she knew Nick had shown her nothing but kindness, so she marshalled her suspicions and forced herself to be brave, presenting her hands to him slowly, still not convinced that she could trust him fully.

Nick examined each hand in turn worrying that he might need to splint the fingers. With an absorbed concentration he wiped away the crusted blood from her hands hoping the antiseptic didn’t sting too much. He noted the bruising around her knuckles but satisfied himself that her hands didn’t need further attention, it seemed like the main injury Ellie faced were her psychological demons. He decided to talk about himself resolving that he might be able to put his housemate at ease, if she knew more about him. He spoke about himself and his job, finding that when he talked about his sister and niece he felt an unexpected pang of homesickness but he would suffer this slight discomfort to distract his patient. 

Ellie listened intently, glad for the distraction, a sad thought niggled at the back of her mind, she didn’t deserve this kindness, she was so thankful to concentrate on Nick’s stories rather than her own depressing self-sabotaging thoughts. When Nick struggled to discuss his immediate family, Ellie knew she needed to reciprocate Nick’s gesture, it would be difficult but Ellie thought it was only right to share some of her own personal background.

Nick and Ellie continued to talk through the night, trading stories of their families. Ellie was surprised to find that sharing details of her life and her family was a balm to her abused psyche. It reminded her of her personhood and agency. After days of muteness it felt liberating to simply be able to chat, Nick proving to be both an excellent listener and raconteur . Their banter was interrupted by Nick’s ringing phone, suddenly he was more business-like taking in the detail of their evacuation. After hanging up, he winced at her apologetically, “Ellie, there’s good news and bad news. The good news is the chopper will be here in the morning, the bad news is… as much as my charm and wit are irresistible, we both need sleep” , he raised his hands in a placating gesture preemptively quashing her denials, “I know, I know I’m in the presence of some super whiz-bang NSA spy, but this is my chopper, so my rules. I’ll take the couch, you missy can take the bed”.


	20. Chapter 20

Nick had figured that a helicopter rescue would have been the end of the intrigue and excitement. It didn’t escape his notice that on the Helo ride, all eyes fell questioningly on Ellie. He could feel her squirming in discomfort next to him, the tension returning to her shoulders, undoing his hard work and the tentative bonds of friendship they forged during their late-night chat. He construed the nervous glances the helicopter crew shot in her direction as unprofessional in the extreme. He bristled at the thought that the pain of Ellie’s pervious ordeal was being exacerbated by these thoughtless actions. Unable to voice his concern over the engine noises he settled for giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, glad that her reaction wasn’t to flinch away, but troubled that she wouldn’t make eye contact with him, he feared she was return back into her mute protective shell.

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Nick’s debrief was surprisingly thorough, he was shocked that Director Vance deigned to sit in on the meeting. It felt like an interrogation, the grey-haired questioner in front of him was sharp, his probing questions cutting to the heart of his work in Argentina and the unlikely set of coincidences that found him in the presence of the notorious Benham Parsa. When the conversation turned to Ellie, Nick didn’t need to feign ignorance, he had been very careful not to probe too deeply as he had seen first hand her traumatic treatment at the hands of the Parsas. His interrogator’s clear blue eyes bore into him like an ocular lie-detector, but Nick couldn’t impart information that he didn’t have. Director Vance smiled at him kindly inquiring how long it had been since he had seen the news, while he exchanged a knowing look to his chosen interrogator Agent Gibbs.

“Holy shit!” Nick couldn’t properly articulate his confusion at the news footage replays he was seeing. He watched on Director Vance's phone as reporters eulogised a brave NSA agent, cutting their footage of grieving parents with a graveside folded flag ceremony to candid social media shoots of a beaming blonde with an infectious wide smile. He addressed his NCIS superiors with a bewildered shoulder shrug, not having reconciled in his mind that the person he met in Argentina was the same Ellie Bishop on the phone screen.

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Ellie rationally knew the USS Wilmington was a floating fortress, she knew she should feel safe, but she also felt like a prisoner. She had seen the looks in the helicopter and the murmuring of the ship’s crew when they first landed, everyone was watching her staring at Benham’s personal plaything. She had rubbed herself raw in the shower until piping hot water turned to cold sputters, nothing could lift the unclean feeling she felt. She was grateful for the change of clothes the quartermaster had provided, outwardly it fit like a glove but in truth she missed the baggy comfort of Nick’s clothes, but with her hair scooped into the the baseball cap it would hopefully allow her to blend into the background more readily on the ship. 

She faced her own debrief with all the stoicism she could muster, the impersonal nature of facing her boss’s boss across a video-link was not lost on her, wondering which analyst would have to scrutinise every micro-expression and word that emanated from her mouth. She recounted the story of her kidnap dispassionately, remembering her struggles with the slow torture of solitude and her hopelessness once Benham ramped up the psychological torment. The painful recollections caused her body to tremble. She could see the thick file in front of her interrogator, she worried about the pictures Benham had of her. She wasn’t sure the cold bureaucrat at the other end of the call would understand that, for her, the biggest violation was Benham raped her mind every waking moment she was in his presence. Even now, even though he was dead and gone, she could remember his haunting words and feel the ghost of his possessive touch. She covered her mouth at this belated realisation, trying to stifle the choking noises of her tears, it was like Benham had branded her mind, she was spoilt goods and now this NSA big-wig was making her share her shame for posterity, casually interrogating every response she had to her kidnappers’ action, this video call was clearly being recorded and was potentially going to be parsed out for analysis by various teams within the NSA. Ellie knew that she would never be able to return to active duty with this hanging over her head. She had never understood the term slut-shaming until now, but her interrogator seemed to see her in much the same light as Benham Parsa did, a pretty blonde, not a person capable of feelings and thoughts of her own.

Ellie didn’t acknowledge the grey-haired man who barged into the room, she was too distressed with her own thoughts. She couldn’t hide her relief that he unplugged the video-link from the wall, leaving only static on the screen in front of her. “Deep breaths Bishop, keep that head up” his words washed over her as she tried to follow the stranger's advice, taking the opportunity to centre herself with long cleansing breaths. She could see the friendly face of Nick appear behind the departing figure. “Oh God, Ellie I’m so sorry, are you ok? Let’s get out of here”. 

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In the privacy of her room, Nick comforted the sobbing Ellie as best he could. He had noted some crewmen trying to surreptitiously record them in the passageway, he cringed thinking about the gossip & salacious rumour-mongering he’d seen online when he typed a simple query on the name Ellie Bishop. He tried to focus his attention on the person in from of him, he could see she was still reeling from her interview. “Oh God Nick, I don’t know what to do, I no longer have a job, my marriage is over, my cheating dick husband went off using the proceeds of my life assurance policy, I’m homeless and my parents think I’m dead… oh god I have to ring my parents” she buried her face into his chest, “it’s just too much and I’m just so so tired of it all”. 

Nick let Ellie vent her feelings, he didn’t really understand why he felt so protective of her but he knew he could trust his own heart in matters of great emotion. He manoeuvred his crying companion into a reclined position. Stroking her hair softly while he shared his own thoughts:   
“Ellie, I promised you once, I’d get you home and nothing has changed that. Rest up now and you can ring your Mom in a few hours. I’ll drive you home myself… but we are stuck in the middle of the ocean, so just relax for a minute." He took a deep breath before continuing, "You need to do one more thing for me, my boss gave me a business card of a psychologist friend of his and I think you should give it a try, we can ring her tomorrow”. Nick left his worry about PTSD unspoken, when Ellie gave him a watery smile, he felt relief as a knot of tension he had been clenching in the pit of his stomach released. He was beginning to feel pretty tired too, so he scooched himself closer to Ellie, forming a big spoon to her little spoon. In the twilight of his sleep he could feel Ellie’s tired frame burrow closer to his own warmth, her small hum of pleasure the only sound emanating from her lips.

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Unbeknownst to the two resting agents, they had two sentries at their door, ensuring their continued privacy. “Leon, I think you are going to get a call from the NSA director”, the grey-haired man mused. “Gibbs, that man’s an ass, I would have pulled the plug on that call too, you just got to it first. What a weasel, as a decent man I think I can safely say I’ve got my people’s back”. They bumped coffee cups in agreement and readied themselves to rebuff any looky-loo who strayed across their path. “Did you give the kid, the card for your head-shrinker friend” Gibbs inquired absentmindedly of his boss, pleased to see the confirmatory nod from his fellow guard. He thought about his Rule 8 ‘Never take anything for granted’, he hoped the two agents could make things work, for the moment he was content to give them time to try to make it happen.

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End file.
